I have been doing the work of finding islands of peace pretty steadily for about six days now.* It’s going swimmingly — and by that I mean that I am usually far from shore. But my use of the word is not entirely sardonic; it’s going as well as can be expected; I can now keep in mind almost all the time that such islands exist, and I can find them on my own. I have never had to do this before: a text to my best friend (no need for response) was the fastest way to an island and, by mutual agreement, I used that method of transportation more often than any other. For some reason I didn’t have the same trouble then that I am having now, which is that staying on an island of acceptance is very difficult work. Well, I will have lots of practice! I am feeling pretty good just now and my “hooray” is not at all facetious.
*This is the work I have been doing for years, but this fall I took a break from it. I’m starting again by dint of circumstance.
The work of finding balance of expression is not going as well! You can see by the paragraph above that I am currently in the mood for indiscretion. And even in real life I am frequently snarkier than I intend, which is grossly unfair, as the range of snark I can stand from Wafflets is extremely limited. I’ll figure that out, though.
I remember feeling unsure last week about the work that I need to do right now — whether I should cut and run to go back to farm work, or just go be a Catholic Worker already or what. But I am doing considerable work, in three parts. First and foremost, my work is to love my students, keep them safe, and teach them to love others and themselves. Second, I am still, in a limited way, practicing my food-production and homemaking skills. And third, I am learning how to love freely, independently, and fully, without tearing myself apart. (I cannot yet love politely. Sorry, Wafflets. That’s work for later. I am trying not to be too hurtful, or thoughtless, or actively rude, but it’s a lot.) The work I’m doing now feels like work worth doing.
In other news: most of the remaining tomato seedlings do appear likely to Make It at least until it’s time to plant them out (I literally just knocked on our coffee table, just in case). The mushroom table looks positively Pinterest-worthy. The compost bin is still not done but I bought the drill bits I needed and theoretically I can do it whenever it quits raining. I cooked dinner maybe once this week so I’m looking forward to more cooking next week.
The lilac is blooming, the bleeding hearts are glorious, and I finally got all the way through the process of harvesting and processing knotweed shoots (it’s not even that long, but the season’s so short!) to taste the spectacularly mediocre sweet puree recommended by City Herbal. (Maybe next year I’ll try a different recipe.) The garlic mustard is flowering already. So is our neighbor’s Giant Solomon’s Seal, a personal favorite of mine. (I mean to look at. It’s edible, but not responsible to eat.) I found a patch of nettle last week and though not terribly convenient it’s certainly in a place I can return to, so this week or next the Waffle will be enjoying nettle quiche. Or something. There’s very little that nettle isn’t good in.
I wonder if the milkweed is sprouting? The pokeweed almost certainly is, but I haven’t seen any skeletons whatsoever, and I don’t imagine I’ll find any until late summer when it’s much more visible. Well, if I’m here next May I’ll know where to find them. (I see why I used to speak with such certainty; I see why I bought the loom. It would be so lovely to think about next May and know I’d be here. Maybe it’s enough to enjoy this May. I’m doing my best.)